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Barney Green · (09-07-2017)

Chapter Two

The Origins of Kate Continued

The Rendez Vous train arrived approximately at 10:13 in the morning, as it always does on a Monday -- every Monday. Ragon (pronounced Ray-Gone) always arrived at 9:55 with a fresh brewed cup of hot tea in his hand while smoking a pipe. He was the housekeeper, or butler, to Ravenhill and has been for quite some time.

Each week, a package would arrive with detailed instructions in a envelope that would be hand delivered to his employer. He looked forward to time he would spend out of the home and didn't mind it being a weekly duty. Ragon was a man of habit and thought the scheduled time as a bit of fresh air.

While waiting for his package and employee to return, Ravenhill caught the words spoken from his first opponent at his new job. He thought it was appropriate to answer the individual opposing him and to correct some of Mr. Jack Cain's view on some matters.

"Mr. Cain, I appreciate your view as everyone is entitled to spill out their opinions on an individual or matter, but I must correct you on some things. Human beings are unique in many ways compared to other living organisms. We gain instinct through a learned pattern while animals instinct is natural. Animals react, and we tend to have an opinion before we react. It's not that some animals do not think, they do but are much different.

We like to speak our mind on anything and everything, then gather around those with similar views. Once we have our opinions marked, we start the process of labeling.

In American politics, if you believe 'these' policies, then you're a democrat -- 'those' policies, republican -- 'these', a libertarian and so forth.

In music, we create genres; and when something is unique, we must put it in already made categories -- it's pop-rock, or rock-rap.

In movies, same thing. We must place it in something we already know and not create something different.

I think I've made my point quite clear.

Now then, you see a picture of me or hear some story about what I've done with a lady and you place category. You see my clothes and labeled me a hipster of sorts; hear of one story about me and jump to think I'm some sort of horror creation within a Stephen King genre. Even the greatest detectives, real or fiction, cannot be precise without further investigation. And you see one picture and hear one story, and you think you have me figured out. My -- one better than the fictional Sherlock Holmes has arrived.

It's not only easy for us to put things or people in labels, categories or genres but some do fit. In fact, some fit on purpose because they are afraid of being labeled as something different. Labels is what molds our daily activities and what makes us afraid of the unknowable.

I'm not interested in labels, Mr. Cain. It doesn't bother me that you want to label me as a hipster, a Stephen King character, or some man trying to spook out others. If that's what makes you feel better about our appointment on Saturday, then continue to create this fictional man into your mind. I don't go on assumptions, only facts.

I'm not here to pretend to be scary. If people are scared when they hear me talk, see me walk into a room or do scientific experiments, then that's their reaction but isn't who I am.

I believe this is the part where I should then explain who I am, what I'm doing, what I'm about and so on. To me, that just takes out the fun of the whole game. It's more fun to see what people's drawn-up conclusions about you are when very little is known. It's mere entertainment for me to see such foolish guessing.

Now then, let's deduct what facts you do know and what you think you know.

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FACTS KNOWN

A lady flew over my home.
A lady investigated my property.
A lady returned to my property and home.
A lady is in my home with an I.V.

ASSUMPTIONS MADE BY JACK CAIN

I prey on women and those weaker than themselves.
I want people to think I'm scary.
I'm a bully.

TRUTH ASSESTMENT

A lady flew over my home, researched and sought out information regarding the home. She found my name and ended up coming back to my home, which is considered trespassing. I never sought after her, so preying on her is not a fact. You also concluded that I do this to women after only one woman is known to be in my home. This is where that labeling would help you feel at ease, but not get answers to the questions.

And I'm a bully, why? Because a trespasser is in my own being treated for something?

I want people to fear me, why? Because the way I dress, talk or that my home is in a secluded area?

I prey on women because one, who broke the law, searched me out and is now in my home tied to a bed?

POSSIBILITIES THAT ARE NOT KNOWN

How do you know that Kate isn't sick, and I'm helping her?

What if she requested me to do this after I told her some things?

Perhaps she serves a higher purpose.

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Do you see what kind of ignorance lies within the labels, Mr. Cain? You make assumptions without knowing the whole story and all the facts, which in the court would cause a mistrial. If you were a lawyer and say I was a murderer, you would have just let me go free because of your ignorance.

I enjoy laughter, as any man would. I say that to ask -- have you seen Office Space movie? I only bring it up because it's so fitting for you, my friend.

A person making assumptions is either stupid, foolish, or afraid. Only time is able to tell us all which one you are but I think I know; but that's just my opinion -- who cares about that? I don't jump to conclusions, Mr. Cain. I present a hypothesis or theory, and I begin the process of deduction to find out the truth.

If it helps you, by all means continue on your assuming path to enlightenment. If you're interested in freeing your mind and becoming something more, then I am available for further examination."

It wasn't long after Ravenhill shared his thoughts on Jack Cain when Ragon arrived with the package.

"Welcome back. Do you -- Ah, yes. Thank you."

"Sir, I believe it's time for Miss Shanks medicine."

"What would I do without you? Ragon, do we still have that treatment to help one quit smoking cigarettes?"

"The one you used on me?"

"Yes."

"Sir, I hate to inform you but it didn't completely work. I have moved onto smoking pipes."

"I know, Ragon. I never meant for it to cure smoking, only the craving of cigarettes."

"Ah. But how did you do that? Why would you kill one smoking habit and allow another?"

"Call it -- an experiment. I'd like to offer the treatment to Mr. Cain. Now, let us get back to the present matter."

Ravenhill took the package from Ragon, and left to go into a different room to be alone. The butler followed his routine and went to visit Miss Shanks.

Though still strapped to a bed with tubes coming from her body, she was sitting up sipping on a bowl of hot soup. Her face had a few scratch marks on it, as did both of her hands and elbows; her legs were fine. Not too far from the bed was a 40" LED Samsung Television with The Proposal playing. Miss Shanks was enjoying the light-hearted romance-comedy starring Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock. The mood was quite different from the last time we saw her.

Ragon stood by the door, hidden by the low light and remained quiet while watching her enjoy the soup. After a few minutes, Ragon was backing out of the door and knocked over a metal bowl. It startled Miss Shanks.

"Who? -- Who's there?"

"Sorry, ma'dam. I was just checking on you."

It had been the first meeting between the two, at least from Miss Shanks point-of-view. Ragon made his way towards her after he picked up the bowl he just knocked over. Once he came out from the shadows and into a brighter light, a calm came over her. It was the face of a man much different than her encounter with the strange Ravenhill.

He was a shorter man, about 5'7 in height and not very heavy. His face was clean shaven; and hair was well kept like a business man. She noticed how well dressed he was and would muster her own ideas about him.

"Apologies. I was just coming down to check on you for Mr. Ravenhill."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Ragon. I'm Mr. Ravenhill's butler, friend, and co-worker."

"You two -- don't --" she tried gathering her thoughts while speaking.

"Don't look like we'd be friends or co-workers?"

"Yes."

"We both have our gifts, but our outlook is quite similar. How is the soup?"

"Please let me go. Please. I won't say anything about you or him or where you live. Please let me go."

"The soup that bad?" he said with a light chuckle trying to lighten the mood and sway the conversation to a different topic.

"I -- I don't know what you're doing to me. I'm tired. I want to go home."

"Miss, you fell five stories and bumped your head along the way. You spoke to us while you were unconcious and told us quite a bit about your life -- or so we thought. We contacted the place you said you work, and nothing; the former fiance' doesn't exist. No one seems to know who you are or anything about you."

"What? What are you talking about? My name is Kate Shanks. I was engaged to Michael Se --"

Kate continued on with her words explaining what Ragon and Ravenhill had already known. He kindly let her panic and express her frustration about being tied up at a unknown location. It didn't look like she was going to end the ranting, so Ragon decided it was best to make her silent.

He walked over do a folder lying on a cabinet, and handed it to Miss Shanks.
She was quiet.

"That is all the information we were able to find out about you -- the real you. You fell and probably lost some memories. Ravenhill is a good man; a bit strange and to himself, but still a good man. He took you here to save you from yourself. After you woke up, you began screaming about wanting to die and so we tied you up. We mean you no harm, ma'dam. Ravenhill is just trying to fix you. That's all, then -- then you'd be on your way."

"You promise?"

On the surface Kate calmed down and showed belief in Ragon's words, but behind her eyes she was trying to put the pieces together. Several thoughts were not adding up, but the most intriguing was Ravenhill's quote to her that played on repeat in her mind. . .

""Miss Shanks," he said followed by a short pause. ""I'm already dead."

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